L.A. Customs Blues (2000) Released on The GP Notebook - The Last Whippoorwhill Well, I just touched down from crossin’ the Atlantic For 20 days I’ve really played it cool But I must admit I’m nervous and a feelin’ kinda frantic With a touch of fever comin’ on from the L.A. customs blues I'm over 21 and I've been drinkin’ They can search me, I ain’t carryin’ none But that officer is glaring and I know just what he’s thinkin’ I’m about to make your day you long haired son of a gun Oh, please Mr. customs man won’t you let me be I ain’t got a thing you want hidden anywhere on me Don’t take off my jacket, don’t take off my shoes Don’t take off my trousers, got the L.A. customs blues Well, I’ll admit I don’t look presidential But I’m tellin’ you I ain’t done nothing wrong Is every single thing I own a weapon of potential Just because I pick a guitar and sing a country song Ain’t done a thing outside the law since I was 10 years old ‘Cept raid a laundry bar and flog a bit o’ gold I was only 13 and I’ve been straight since then Please, Mr. customs man, won’t you let me in Oh, please Mr. customs man won’t you let me be I ain’t got a thing you want hidden anywhere on me Don’t take off my jacket, don’t take off my shoes Don’t take off my trousers, got the L.A. customs blues Don’t take off my jacket, don’t take off my shoes Don’t take off my trousers, got the L.A. customs blues